


Silver and Gold

by daviesroyal



Series: The Slow Road to Redemption [3]
Category: Leverage, Stargate - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:48:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daviesroyal/pseuds/daviesroyal
Summary: Make new families, but keep the old.You never know when they'll come in handy.





	Silver and Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, sorry for taking so long. I have a bunch of projects I'm working on alongside my actual, real life job. On the bright side, this series is my least complicated (because I love making things difficult for myself), so it will (probably) have the most frequent updates.   
> Also, there was just supposed to be a funny aside about Stargate, since I haven't read the Atlantis novels or actually finished SG-1, but then the characters got involved and Eliot's sister turned up and before I knew it they'd taken over an entire chapter.  
> Hopefully it's not too disappointing, and I'll try and get another chapter out soon.  
> Enjoy!

Just two months after Eliot parts ways with his team, Stargate Command finds him again.

Specifically, Doctor Daniel Jackson finds him.

_(He’s not as surprised as he should be. Their last job with IYS had drawn a lot of attention, and on top of all the other big jobs they’d pulled in the last year, the government catching up to him is to be expected. It’s not like he’s never been on their radar before.)_

He’s been travelling almost listlessly, picking up small odd jobs here and there, but mostly putting his own hacking skills and resources to the test to keep an eye on Hardison and Parker. Currently, Eliot’s sitting in a crappy diner in Nowhere, Midwest _(just like when Dubenich offered him the team, and he’s maybe a bit more nostalgic than he’s letting on)_ drinking crappy coffee, and Daniel Jackson appears out of thin air _(not literally, the guy’s no longer Ascended, but it seems that way because Eliot’s moping has apparently destroyed his Zanshin)_ to sit down in front of him.

Eliot stares as the younger man calmly asks the waitress for a crappy cup of coffee. Says nothing, just keeps staring, waiting for Jackson to tell him why the SGC is intruding upon his life again. Jackson, to his credit, doesn’t seem to be that ruffled, and takes a sip of his crappy coffee before speaking.

_(It’s entirely possible Eliot got used to drinking the coffee he made for his team, and now the experience will never be the same, which sucks, because Eliot likes coffee.)_

“The SGC would like you to return as a consultant for a mission or two.”

Jackson’s gotten blunter over the years. Used to be, he’d stutter and hesitantly make eye contact and take ten minutes to get to the point. Maybe he knows if he did that Eliot would get up and leave. He appreciates blunt and to the point, even when he doesn’t like the topic of conversation.

“Where’s your babysitter?” he asks, instead of answering the implied question. Jackson has a guard, even if Eliot can’t see them. Jackson always has a guard. Too many kidnappings.

“Jack’s outside,” Jackson says ruefully. “I think he thought the presence of a General wouldn’t help things along.”

Eliot rolls his eyes slightly, and isn’t surprised in the least when said General slides into the booth next to Jackson moments later. “I’m not in the military anymore.”

“Good, because we’re asking you to come back as a consultant, not ordering you to return to active duty,” O’Neill says. “Just for a couple missions, there’s some things we’d like to follow up on that are uniquely suited to your talents.”

Eliot tenses, watches them carefully. There’s every chance that Homeworld Security could arrest him for what he’s been doing lately. He doesn’t think O’Neill would try to blackmail him into service, but even Generals answer to people.

“A few things have changed, since you last worked with us,” Jackson admitted. “The most important being the Lucian Alliance.”

“You defeated the Goa’uld,” Eliot says, because he’s been keeping tabs on that situation too. “Something was going to fill the power vacuum, and since no one tried to set up an interplanetary government, a new enemy was the most likely.”

O’Neill gives him a calculating look, but doesn’t seem particularly surprised or bothered that Eliot clearly knows top secret information.

“There’s also the Wraith,” Jackson says, valiantly trying to keep the conversation under control.

“You know, for a top secret organization, you’re awfully keen to discuss it in a public place,” Eliot tells O’Neill. He realizes why a second later, when he looks around the diner and finds that the customers have been replaced by Marines, and the staff hasn’t been replaced by anybody.

It explains why he’s out of crappy coffee.

“This is important,” O’Neill says, shrugging. “We need your help, and I figured you wouldn’t appreciate being spirited away to some military base, regardless of security issues.”

Eliot neither agrees nor disagrees. Instead, he looks back at Jackson.

“The primary development,” Jackson says slowly, “was my Ascension.”

Eliot suddenly has a suspicion of where this is going, and he’s not particularly happy about it.

“Specifically, when I was forced back into human form, and regained my memories, I also regained the knowledge I’d had as an ascended being.” He gives Eliot a pointed look. “Part of that was an awareness of other ascended beings, or even partially-ascended. The Ancients—Alterans—tried to stay off their radar, but I got curious.”

“Of course you did,” O’Neill muttered.

“You went and talked to the other ascended beings in this galaxy,” Eliot says flatly. “And none of them flipped their shit?”

“Oh, quite a few of them did,” Jackson says. “But one of the partially-ascended managed to talk them out of smiting me. She told me—a lot more than the Alterans did, actually. She was very helpful.”

“I bet she was,” Eliot mutters. There’s no doubt in his mind who was able to talk the Host down, and he doesn’t know why his sister would out herself to the government like that.

_(Okay, technically it was just Jackson, not the government, but clearly the SGC and Homeworld Security know now, and their attitude towards non-human entities has always been a little too aggressive for his taste.)_

_(Maybe a little hypocritical, coming from him, but he’s come a long way since the war. Most beings react poorly to being threatened, and treating them with friendliness instead of hostility or wariness usually decreases the risk of casualties.)_

“The point is,” Jackson continues, “the SGC is focused on dealing with the Lucian Alliance. But we’re not oblivious to the Wraith, and Atlantis has already returned to the Pegasus Galaxy. We need to find a solution to that threat before they find the Milky Way.”

Eliot remembers that. The city-ship had left Earth just before his team had settled in LA. He was even a little disappointed; Atlantis might not be an artificial intelligence in the purest meaning of the term, but she was sentient. Eliot would have enjoyed meeting her.

“You want me to go to another galaxy?” Eliot says slowly. That is—an extremely bad idea.

_(So was working with a team again, but it’s abundantly clear that Eliot is terrible at making decisions.)_

“Just to review the situation and see if there’s any help you can offer,” O’Neill says smoothly. “This isn’t permanent. We just want to get rid of our most worrying threat as quickly as possible.”

There’s probably a lot they’re not telling him, but that’s nothing new. That’s how the military—and the government in particular—operate.

“Why didn’t you ask her?” There’s no need to clarify. Jackson knows who he’s referring to.

“I haven’t been able to find her,” Jackson says. He’s either embarrassed by that fact, or at trying in the first place. “You’re the only one who’s really in the public eye. And you’ve worked with us before.”

Eliot spins the empty coffee mug in his hands. “There a time limit?”

“Just let us know,” O’Neill says. He stands and pulls Jackson up with him. “You remember how to get in touch with us, right?”

Eliot gives him a dirty look. “It hasn’t been that long.”

O’Neill just smirks and strides out the door, dragging Jackson the whole way. The rest of the Marines file out behind the two, and Eliot tosses two twenties on the table before following.

It’s a better job than he’s usually going to get, and at least this way he’ll be helping people.

Eliot makes a mental note to call his sister sooner rather than later, and climbs into the General’s car.

* * *

_“Never. Again,”_ Eliot snarls when he beams up to the _Hammond_ four months later. Samantha Carter, now a Colonel, just smirks at him.

“Thanks for helping,” she says innocently. His eyes narrow further.

“A mission or two, O’Neill said,” he reminds her. “Three months in an active warzone is _not_ the same thing.”

“And yet, it’s no longer an active warzone, so mission accomplished,” Carter says brightly. “We’ll be back in the Milky Way in eighteen days.”

“It’s no longer an active warzone because half of the races in the Pegasus galaxy are dead,” Eliot snaps.

Carter shrugs. “No one really liked the Wraith, and the Vanir suffered from the same cloning problems as the Asgard. How are Rodney and Elizabeth, by the way?”

“Human,” he mutters. “I’m not a psychologist, so I can’t say anything as to their mental state. You should get someone else to come out here, make sure everyone continues to play nice.”

“We would if we could find them, Spencer,” Carter says. “That hasn’t changed.”

“I’ll make a few calls, once we get back to Earth,” he sighs. “I need to talk to them anyway.”

“That will be a fun reunion, I’m sure,” she grins. Eliot rolls his eyes and leaves the bridge. After fighting aliens and working miracles, he needs to get back to Earth and his normal job of beating people up and stealing shit.

* * *

True to his word, the moment he’s in his quarters in Cheyenne Mountain, Eliot dials the number from memory and waits for his sister to pick up. It doesn’t take long; she’s probably memorized all his numbers, even the ones Hardison gave him that are supposed to be impossible to find.

“Auriel,” she says. There’s no judgement in her tone, and he doesn’t correct her. Aneira is the only one he’ll allow to use that name now, just as he’s the only one who gets to call her Eira. Half respect, half familiarity, reserved just for them.

“You remember the ascended beings that made a mess of three galaxies, way back when?” he asks. From her groan, it’s clear she does.

“I just got back from Pegasus, you should probably send a unit out there to help clean up and set things straight.”

“Only if you meet me for coffee,” she counters.

“I’m still in Colorado Springs. Meet me tomorrow? And bring that unit,” he adds.

“Sure,” she agrees. “Who knows, I might even be able to wrangle a dinner out of you.”

He snorts and hangs up without saying goodbye. They never do; it hits a nerve in all of them. Then he sits on the bed, puts his head between his knees, and just tries to breathe.

* * *

The next day, Eliot meets his sister as promised. He’s also completely unsurprised to see Quinn sitting at the table when he gets there.

“I’ll call the others,” the younger soldier says as soon as Eliot sits down. “We’ll check in once we reach Pegasus.”

“Be careful,” Eira says softly. Quinn just nods briskly, instead of making a snappy comment like he would have if Eliot had tried telling him that, and leaves with another nod to Eliot.

“The Elameder?” he asks. It’s been a long time since he’s seen his family, but they’re still his.

“Doing well,” Eira says. There’s a wry twist to her mouth. “As well as can be expected in peacetime. We were soldiers, after all.”

“Vigilance,” Eliot tells her, tone heavy with experience. “Focus on keeping the peace, especially quashing troublemakers, and hopefully they won’t long for war.”

“I know how to do my job, Auriel,” she laughs. “You could always come back. They miss you, and no one will turn down a chance to spar with one of our best generals.”

He shrugs and concentrates on his coffee so he won’t flee the shop. “Maybe.”

Eira seems to take that as the _no_ he really means. Or maybe just _not yet._

“Tell me about this new team,” she orders. “And that vampire you made Father deal with.”

“Angel,” he says, with no small amount of disgust. “One of two souled master vampires, subject to prophecies of the ‘Powers That Be.’” Eira mirrors his grimace. They’ve never gotten along with the self-proclaimed ‘Powers,’ and their recent messes won’t change that. “Formerly known as Angelus, and developed quite the fixation with me. I temporarily solved that by dying—well, my current incarnation did, anyway—but that only lasted until I came back to his turf and caught his attention.”

“Because of your team,” his sister says. He nods. “Tell me about them.”

Eliot won’t get away with ducking the question again. “Four thieves. Well, three and an honest man, but that line is blurring quick. Nate Ford, former insurance investigator at IYS; Sophie Devereaux—that’s not her birth name, I don’t know what is—she’s a grifter. Parker’s a straight-up thief, and Hardison’s a hacker.”

From the glint in her eye, Eira caught the pride in his voice when he talked about the two youngest members of his team. He gives her a sharp glance and hopes she doesn’t pursue it. Taking pity on him, she begins talking about one of the fledglings—not so young anymore, and Eliot feels a slight pang at missing out on his siblings growing up—and their latest antics.

“I’m thinking about sending them out into the mortal world more often,” she says. “Like you said, patrolling the supernatural communities, keeping the peace, eliminating boredom. Most of the Elameder have barely seen the mortal world since Christo died; it would be good for them.”

“Or you’d traumatize them,” he points out, amused despite himself. His sister waves this away impatiently.

“There might be a bunch of Slayer-Lites running around now, but they can’t be everywhere at once. We can pull our own weight, and in some cases we’re more effective than the Slayer could ever hope to be.”

He rolls his eyes and lets her plan. This is her element, and it’s clear Eira knows her place in the world.

At least one of them does. Eliot will take the win.

His phone buzzes, drawing their attention. The text is from an unknown number, containing only a link. Resolving to smite it if the link contains some sort of virus or other undesirable content, Eliot clicks it and watches the page appear.

It’s a ticket confirmation at a Boston theater, for a showing of The Sound of Music. He has no idea why it’s been sent to him, almost deletes it until he sees the promo image that finally loads. Sophie’s face stares at him, and from Eira’s snickers his own face must be doing some pretty entertaining maneuvers to accommodate the conflicting emotions on it.

The show is in two days’ time. If he leaves now, he’ll be able to make it.

“Have fun,” Eira says cheerfully. Eliot glares half-heartedly at her for sneaking a glance at his phone, but presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving regardless.

She’s still his sister, after all.


End file.
